


Tools of the Trade

by littlecakes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, BAMF Prompto Argentum, M/M, Pole Dancing, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, lap dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 03:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15765840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecakes/pseuds/littlecakes
Summary: As owner of the Hoe Down, Ravus thinks he needs to learn the trade he promotes. He asks his two best dancers, Prompto and Ignis, for help. Prompto and Ignis have other lessons in mind, though.





	Tools of the Trade

The lights are on in the club when Prompto walks in. It’s a little weird; usually when he’s here, the ceiling lights are off and the place is lit up like a disco ball on steroids. The amount of work Dino has put into the set-up is truly spectacular, and the sad, fluorescent flicker of the cheap bulbs makes Prompto appreciate it all the more.

He should thank him sometime.

Prompto heads straight to the back of the club to the dancers’ room. His locker’s the one on the end, next to the back door. There aren’t that many, though. The Hoe Down is a pretty exclusive place to work, which means that Ravus treats his dancers well, and the crowd isn’t too bad either. He supposes he’s pretty lucky that the only other place with a workforce as large as the Hoe Down is the farm across town.

Thinking of Ravus makes his breath shorten up and his lungs feel shallow. The entire reason why he’s there on his day off this early in the afternoon is because Ravus has personally requested him. After obsessing all night, the only conclusion he can come to is that either he’s getting fired, which doesn’t make sense- he’s the club’s best, as far as tips go- or he’s getting a stern talking-to for what happened in the bathroom with Gladio the other night.

Yeah, it’s probably that. He can’t really blame himself though; those hands are just so big. And skilled. Gladio himself is probably cut from marble, those muscles… Prompto has to remind himself that he’s here on business, not pleasure.

Ignis comes out from the bathroom in a snug pair of boyshorts that are a shade of green to match his eyes. Prompto is surprised, not only that Ignis is here on his day off as well, but also that he’s dressed for the job. Ignis flashes a quick smile at him as he places his carefully folded clothes inside of his locker.

“Prompto,” he says warmly. “Ravus told me you’d be here.”

Prompto frowns a little, but Ignis’s warm smile comforts him. Maybe he’ll get away with his naughty little escapade after all. “Hey, Iggy. He didn’t tell me you’d be here, but I’m kinda glad you are. Thought I was in for a lecture.”

“If you think you’re in trouble for finding joys in the job, then we all are,” Ignis says with a wave of his hand. “Though you could have been a bit quieter about it.”

Prompto’s cheeks match the crimson of the briefs he pulls out of his backpack. Ignis’ grin is absolutely impish. Prompto tries not to let it go straight to his cock, but goddamn if he doesn’t love it when Ignis gets feisty. 

Their appreciation for each other is what makes their joint routines on stage so dynamic. Ignis and Prompto are perfect foils for each other on stage. Where Ignis is graceful and practiced to near perfection, Prompto prefers to go with the flow and channel his energy into the song. What comes out of it is never the same on any given night, but it’s absolutely electric.

It helps that his dance partner is fucking sexy, and knows it. Ignis can take a crowd of people and know within the first minute of his dance exactly what kind of crowd he’s catering to, and rakes in the cash because of it. It’s one reason why Prompto loves dancing with him.

The other’s the sex. Prompto swears it’s to keep them close, so they can keep the cash flowing like a waterfall. Other nights, he’s not so sure. All he knows is that he can elicit noises from Ignis that he’s never heard from another person, noises that rock him straight to his core. Just thinking about it makes him need to casually turn away from Ignis as he changes. Maybe if he’s lucky, he can convince him to grab a drink with him after they’re done with their meeting with Ravus.

The door swinging open tells him he won’t have the chance; not before the meeting, anyway. Ravus strides into the room, his pinstriped, black suit perfectly tailored to his lithe body. As the owner of the Hoe Down, he feels compelled to dress a hundred times fancier than anyone else in Insomnia. As the owner of the most prosperous business in town, he absolutely has a right to.

“Gentlemen, thank you for coming,” Ravus says. “Meet me on the stage in ten minutes.”

“You got it, Ravus,” Prompto says, waving casually to him before stuffing his sneakers in his locker.

“On the stage… that’s peculiar,” Ignis muses.

Prompto shrugs. “Maybe he’s got stuff to move? Or there’s a new pole and he needs to make sure it’s fitted properly?”

“Perhaps…” Ignis says, as his mind wanders. “He  _ did _ ask us to dress for work.”

The two men make it out onto the stage, where the lights are already dimmed. It isn’t the spectacular show they usually find on a late weekday night, but it’s certainly better than the glaring fluorescents from before. Prompto sets his heels on the floor next to his pole before wiping it down with a towel- not that it isn’t sparkling clean already. He has Ravus to thank for that, he supposes. The heels Prompto has chosen for this odd occasion are clear plastic, a classic choice for his profession. It helps that they’re comfy and he loves the way his ass looks when he’s wearing them.

“Those? Really?” Ignis asks as he straps on a pair of black stilettos with heels so sharp he could easily kill someone with them.

“Hey, don’t hate on a traditional look,” Prompto chides as he lifts his leg until it’s flush with the pole in a generous stretch, giving Ignis  _ that _ look. He rolls his eyes, but there’s a flash of interest there that Prompto’s pretty sure Ignis intended for him to see. Prompto opens his mouth to speak, but Ignis’s look of utter surprise makes him turn to look at the offender.

It’s Ravus in a pair of snow-white boyshorts. He’s never realized how absolutely ripped his employer is, and Prompto is really regretting it now. Ravus’s pale, sculpted figure is absolutely  _ divine _ . He’s wondering why Ravus himself isn’t upside down on a pole every single night; a physique that unique and gorgeous would earn tips faster than he could spend them.

“Close your mouth, Argentum,” Ravus snaps, setting a water bottle and a pair of wedges on the table closest to the pole Ignis has claimed.

“Care to tell us the nature of this meeting?” Ignis asks casually. Of course, he’s already recovered from Ravus’s  _ presence _ and is back to stretching. Prompto is quick to return to his stretches as well; it’s obvious this meeting isn’t one about business mechanics or job performance.

Well, maybe it  _ is _ about job performance, but not the kind of discussion he was expecting.

“ _ Someone  _ said it would be shameful for a strip club owner not to know his trade,” Ravus muttered salaciously. Prompto and Ignis share a knowing look that says Noctis. “I would appreciate it if you two could show me what it is that makes you such a success. My business wouldn’t be nearly as profitable without you both.”

Prompto’s gleaming with pride. Ravus isn’t one to give compliments- it’s usually the opposite- so he’s drinking this up while he can. He’s the most junior dancer the Hoe Down’s ever had. Ravus hired him as soon as he turned eighteen, strutted in the club, and showed him that he was meant to be with a pole between his thighs.

“If I’d had some forewarning I could’ve put together a lesson,” Ignis says sourly. Ravus shoots a pointed look in his direction.

“Forgive me, Mr. Scientia, but I only decided it would be worth the effort yesterday. I hardly believe a proper lesson plan could’ve been constructed while you were wrapped around one of these poles last night,” Ravus says pointedly.

“Of course, Mr. Nox Fleuret. You’ll just have to do with what Prompto and I can come up with in the moment. Do we at least have access to the DJ booth? We’ll need music.”

“Do you think I don’t know the first thing about pole dancing? I asked Ghiranze to show me how to use it. My phone’s already connected,” Ravus hisses. Prompto never said he was a pleasant person to work for, but the paycheck makes up for his less-than-cheerful attitude. “What song would you like?”

“I believe my signature is ‘In Those Jeans,’ by Ginuwine,” Ignis says coolly. “Would you prefer to watch my routine before we instruct you?”

“It would be helpful.”

Ravus retreats to a chair at the bar built into the side of the stage. Prompto swiftly follows, sitting next to his boss in case he had any questions or concerns. Ravus seems more concerned with watching, though, as he leans forward onto his elbows. His abdominals flex with the movement of his body, showing off the slender planes. Prompto tries his best to find something fascinating with the shine of the pole that Ignis so firmly grasps between his hands.

His routine starts as it always does, with Ignis shimmying to the top. He hangs upside down, extending his legs outward and hugging the metal between a hip and his bare leg. Those legs, sinewy yet strong, hug the pole even tighter as he hangs from it. 

Fingers trace the defined lines of his abdominals as he gyrates his hips before he grips the pole between his legs once again. His movements grow faster, matching the beat as he leans away from it. Ignis grips it tightly, sliding down it slowly, every muscle contracting and rippling under his skin. 

Sensual and powerful, Ignis continues to dominate, even when there’s no audience to cater to. This is  _ him, _ this is Ignis in his purest form, demonstrating such ability and concentration in his profession of choice. It’s compelling and arousing; Prompto can easily see from this point just how skilled his dance partner is.

In an amazing display of strength, Ignis spreads his grip on the pole until he can lift his body away from it. His legs come back toward his body, scissoring the pole as they extend above his shoulders. With every beat they seem to move. Ignis has this song memorized down to its time signature and moves his body as such.

Prompto crosses his legs. He’s pretty sure his boss wouldn’t be happy to see him popping a boner over something he’s supposed to see every day at work. He can’t help it though; Ignis is just too fucking hot for his own good. They make eye contact, briefly, and the smirk that crosses Ignis’s face seems to tell him he already knows that.

He spends the rest of Ignis’ routine trying to bring himself down from the intense level of arousal he already seems to have achieved just from watching. It’s not like he’s never seen a stripper dance before; he used to come here all the time before he turned eighteen with his fake ID just to watch Ignis dance. There’s something different about this routine, though. It’s like Ignis is dancing for  _ him _ , doing all the things Prompto has complimented him on in the past.

When he does the move where he spreads his legs to the beat, brushing that bulging crotch against the pole while he’s gripping it, Prompto absolutely knows he’s dead-on. Ignis is using this casual lesson for their  _ fucking boss _ to toy with him. Prompto will have to get him back for this later, probably with his dick deep down his throat while Ignis hangs off the pole just like he is right now.

Prompto remembers where he is in a sharp moment of clarity and  _ who _ he’s with right now. He looks over to see a vacant chair. Ignis’s song has ended- which Prompto is grateful for right now, though he’ll surely never forget it- and he’s toweling the sweat off as he hops off the stage.

“It seems my student has lost interest,” Ignis says dully. “Though I’m glad my talent wasn’t lost on everyone…” Ignis’s emerald eyes have grown dark as he looks at Prompto’s face and then down to the half-erection Prompto’s sporting in his boyshorts.

“You know how I feel about your dancing,” Prompto says. “That bit at the end, though… it gave me some ideas, Ig.”

Ignis steps close to Prompto, slipping a thumb into the top of his shorts. “You’ll have to share them when our lesson’s over, darling.”

The pet name sends a shiver down Prompto’s spine. It dawns on him that he probably wouldn’t even have to ask Ignis out to get him naked tonight. He could be classy about it, though, and at least buy Ignis a drink first before he has his way with him. Yeah, classy sounds good.

Unfortunately, it isn’t Prompto who asks Ignis that question.

“Drinks, boys?” Ravus asks from the bar. He’s already making one of his odd concoctions, hips pressed against the bar, conveniently concealing his lower half. There’s bottles of gin, vodka, and triple sec out on the counter next to three glasses. Even if he says no, he’s pretty sure Ravus is going to put a glass of his famous Insomnia Ice Water in Prompto’s hand anyway and whisper a backhanded comment under his breath that’ll only make him think of other ways Ravus could verbally abuse him.

“I suppose it is happy hour…” Ignis says, raising his eyebrows at Prompto. “We could indulge.”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

He  _ is _ getting that drink tonight, just with an added bonus, maybe.

“Even if I said no, you’d make me regret it,” Prompto says, shooting a sassy look at Ravus. “So I guess I’ll say yes, and let you off the hook.”

Ravus’s glare is heated and suspicious. “We’ll see about that after you dance for me.”

Prompto smirks before tossing half the drink back in a single gulp and crawling onto the stage, wondering about what Ravus had said. This was beginning to feel less like a lesson and more like a paid private dance. An idea blossomed in his brain; an equally bold and terrifying one. If it paid off, though…

Well, fucking your boss couldn’t always turn out poorly, right? Especially if Ignis was in on it, too. Prompto pretended to stretch as he pondered the notion of the  _ three  _ of them together. It could be hot.

“Since Iggy showed off on the pole… well, the Hoe Down isn’t all about stripping, y’know,” Prompto says with just the slightest air of flirtation in his voice. “There’s lapdances, too. And more private performances.”

He looks at Ignis, who’s trying hard to maintain a poker face. Jade eyes go wide as if to say, ‘are you fucking serious?’

Prompto winks at him before turning to their boss.

“I’m not going to be giving lapdances. I’m the  _ owner _ , Prompto,” Ravus hisses, his cheeks just the subtlest tinge of red.

“Okay, I was just saying.” Prompto says casually.  _ So much for that _ , he thinks. “Iggy, can you queue up ‘Ignition’ for me?”

The room is silent as Ignis makes his way to the back. Prompto watches as those slender hips swing to and fro. He’s still wearing his heels and it brightens Prompto’s spirits a little. At least he and Iggy can have some fun, later, when they’re done dealing with their sour boss.

Bass starts pumping through the speaker, the feminine singer starts crooning, and Prompto climbs up the pole to start his routine. He’s upside down with his hands splayed across his abs when Ravus speaks.

“I guess those acts  _ are _ key facets of the trade,” Ravus says, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. “Very well. Show me, Prompto.”

“Iggy?”

“On it, Prompto. The usual?” he calls from the DJ booth.

Prompto slides down the pole gracefully to lay his back on the floor. “Nah. Play the special one. The big money song.”

“Alright then,” Ignis says, a look of resignation on his face. There’s just a hint of expectancy in the smile that lingers on his lips. “’My Love’, it is. Ravus, a seat at the end of the stage would… enhance the performance.”

Ravus walks the length of the stage, taking a seat at the very end. Ignis waits until he’s seated and comfortable before walking up behind him and dragging the chair a few feet further from the edge of the stage until it hits the nearby table. Ravus shoots daggers at him with an icy gaze until Ignis shakes his head. “For the full effect, Ravus, he’ll want to have room to move for you.”

_ Best wingman _ , Prompto thinks. He’s gonna have to split his tips with Ignis for few nights to pay him back for his help. Then again, maybe Ignis is as into this as he is, and that’s why he’s playing along. Prompto kicks off his chunky plastic heels before walking to the end of the stage and nodding to Ignis, who starts the music.

The bass starts throbbing in his ears and he can feel it through his bare feet planted on the stage. It’s perfect, the way it pulses through him. Prompto lifts his arms above his head as hips swing, their movement slowly becoming more and more exaggerated until he’s practically thrusting into the air in front of him. Lowering his arms, he traces his fingertips down his pecs and over his abs before planting his palms flat against his front and brushing them back toward his ass. 

Repeating the choreography again, more slowly this time, he closes his eyes and parts his lips in an expression of arousal. Sure, the pole’s fun and that’s why he loves his job; there’s something exciting about being watched and he can’t deny that his exhibitionist streak only makes the job more enjoyable. His real joy lies in a lap dance, though. A private dance is so much more sensual and he can cater to his client more specifically. There’s nothing like seeing a pair of pupils blown just because of the way he can move his body. The pleasure easily translates into his dancing. 

It’s then that he looks down to his audience. Ravus isn’t one for showing anything but mild disgust. Right now, though, his bottom lip is clenched between his teeth and he’s biting down hard enough to make the pink flesh white with the pressure of his teeth. Prompto only smiles at him as he lowers himself off the stage, hanging in midair off its edge to roll his hips into the open air and translate the motion down the entirety of his body like a wave.

Ignis is smiling at him from just behind Ravus’s chair. Their eyes briefly meet as Ignis steps to the side to get a better view of Prompto crawling across the floor, moving like a stalking coeurl. Prompto normally takes this opportunity to crawl right up into his client’s lap and touch every inch of his own bare skin, but he doubts if Ravus would be into that.

“Can I touch you?” Prompto asks in a sultry voice, kneeling at Ravus’s feet.

Ravus’s voice wavers as he speaks. “Touch me.”

He’s in. He’s so fucking in. Prompto crawls into Ravus’s lap; his skin is smooth, perfect, and porcelain, with just the right amount of flush in his cheeks. He laces his fingers behind Ravus’s neck as he rocks his hips in his boss’s lap, trying not to think too hard about how this is the guy that pays him on a bi-weekly basis and focus instead on the haze in his subject’s eyes. He flashes a grin at Ignis before removing his hands from his boss’s neck and fondling his own neck and chest with the lightest of touches. It’s almost instinctive now to just rock his hips to the beat in a circular motion.

“You can touch him if you want,” Prompto hears Ignis murmur to Ravus.

Prompto looks at Ignis and passes his tongue over his lower lip before smiling and grinding his hips down into Ravus’ bare legs. He doesn’t touch Prompto, which is fine. He has lots of clients that prefer to keep their hands to themselves and just enjoy the show. Prompto does feel Ignis’s touch at his elbow, drawing his eyes back up to meet his demure gaze.

“Why don’t you turn around for us, love. I think our boss is a little shy.”

“Ignis,” Ravus hisses under his breath.

Prompto unseats himself from Ravus’s lap so he can turn around. He hinges at the hip, bending over and running his hands up the back of his legs as he rises, ending the smooth movement with his hands on his ass and giving it a firm squeeze. Just when he starts to think that maybe Ravus has lost interest, he’s surprised by a set of eager hands pulling him down into a lap. Those same hands slide up his skin, hot and damp with sweat, until they’re on his chest, squeezing at the soft flesh. Prompto tosses his head back, grabs Ravus’s hands, and guides them back down his front until they’re resting dangerously close to the erection growing in his briefs.

The song ends and transitions into a mindless EDM track that Ignis usually dances to. It’s fine, Prompto isn’t thinking about the beat anymore. His mind’s occupied with the cold fingers on his body and the hardness brushing against his backside with every rock of his hips. Ignis pulls Prompto’s shoulders back until he’s flush with Ravus’s chest and Ravus pulls his hips down to grind into his erection.

“Don’t stop,” Ignis whispers in his ear before taking his earlobe in his teeth, biting gently. Those teeth make it down to Prompto’s neck as he grinds into Ravus, his glistening skin making it easy to slide their bodies together. Ravus’s quiet gasp is music to his ears as he reaches behind him and tangles his hand in the other’s hair, pulling him close until their noses are bumping together. With Ignis on one side leaving the impression of his teeth in Prompto’s neck, and now Ravus’s mouth closing on the other side and his hands holding him tight, Prompto’s pretty sure he’s in heaven.

The two pull away and Prompto looks over his shoulder to find Ravus and Ignis locked in a fervent kiss. Prompto can see just a glimpse of Ignis’s skilled tongue making its way into Ravus’s mouth. He continues with his lap dance, clasping his pierced nipple between his fingers and giving it a twist. Prompto moans and Ravus breaks the kiss to smirk at him.

“He’s feeling left out,” Ravus teases. “Look at him play with himself.”

Ignis’s voice is thick with arousal. “Oh, I am, Ravus.”

“Just entertaining myself while I watch,” Prompto sighs, twisting both nipples. Ravus stands, towering over the blonde, and walks him backward until he’s pinned against the stage and crouches to take a nipple between his teeth, pulling at it roughly before passing over it with his tongue. Ravus is just as rough with his mouth as he is with his words, but the pain is immediately followed with pleasure. Prompto rocks his hips, less so with the beat of the music and more with the intention of rubbing their clothed cocks together. His hands are in Ravus’s hair again and he grasps it in his hand, pulling Ravus down, begging for more of his mouth on him. Ravus moves to the other nipple, repeating the punishing pleasure he bestows on Prompto’s body.

In the meantime, Ignis is returning from the backroom with a small, black drawstring bag. Prompto can feel the blush in his cheeks as he smiles breathlessly at him. Ignis’s kiss is salty with the sweat from his routine and the heat of the moment. Prompto arches into Ravus’s forceful teeth and tongue, moaning into Ignis’s mouth. 

“Iggy,” Prompto says with want, clutching his dance partner as close as he can while Ravus’s mouth travels south, biting and sucking pink marks into Prompto’s pale skin. He yanks Prompto’s briefs down and his cock bounces free from the tight fabric. Ignis is moving south now, too, until he’s crouched beside Ravus and they’re both admiring his erection. He smirks at Ravus before sinking his lips in one smooth, quick motion down Prompto’s cock until his they’re pressed against his pelvis. A deep chuckle vibrates through Ignis’s mouth and Prompto nearly melts.

Ravus smirks up at Prompto- the look on his face is absolutely devilish yet alluring all the same- before taking Prompto’s cock out of Ignis’s hand and slurping up the precome that’s dripping down the slit. “Can’t let Ignis have  _ all _ of you, he’s so greedy,” he teases. 

“Wouldn’t be so quick to taunt me, Ravus,” Ignis says, his tone condescending, as he takes a bottle of lube out of his black bag and slicks up his fingers. 

“Get him ready,” Ravus directs.

Ignis smiles at him again before reaching down until his hand disappears behind the cleft of Ravus’s ass, eliciting a gasp. “Oh, this isn’t for Prompto.” Ignis chides affectionately.

Ravus’s face is absolutely menacing. “Ig….  _ Ignis,”  _ he drawls, his voice slipping into a whimper and expression softening as Ignis massages his hole with a finger. Prompto bites his lip as he watches Ignis prep him; he knows exactly how talented Ignis’s slender fingers are and how good they can feel when they’re deep inside. He almost wishes those fingers were inside him when he watches Ignis’s other hand slip between the cheeks of his own ass.

The two take turns sucking Prompto’s cock while Ignis fingers both himself and Ravus. Just the sight of them messily kissing each other in between taking mouthfuls of his cock is more than enough to make him ache for more. Ravus’s passes over him are hungry and voracious, while Ignis takes his time, laving his tongue over the prominent vein along the bottom. Between the two of them working their magic, Prompto’s already shaking at the knees. Ravus moans around Promptos’ girth and the blonde knows he can’t take much more of this.

“Gonna need to stop if we wanna play more,” Prompto pants. Ignis watches as Ravus deepthroats Prompto’s cock one last time before glancing up at Prompto.

“I know just how I want you,” Ignis purrs. “That is, if I can have Ravus, too.”

Ravus’s stare is positively icy. “Only if you don’t tell the other dancers.”

“If you really think that I’m the one to share sexual exploits then you’re sorely mistaken,” Ignis says pointedly, looking in Prompto’s direction as he stands. He helps Ravus to his feet before turning him and pinning his body to the stage. Prompto fishes a few condoms out of the little black bag at their feet and hands one to Ignis.

“Don’t worry, a gentleman never kisses and tells,” Prompto murmurs, kissing Ravus teasingly.

Ravus snorts. “You’re no gentleman, Prompto.”

“Lucky for you, neither am I,” Ignis interjects, pushing his tip inside of Ravus’s hole. Prompto teases him with a firm grip on his cock, giving it a few strokes as Ignis pushes into porcelain skin. Ignis’s fingers clasp around the back of Ravus’s neck, bending him forward until his torso’s flat against the stage before he starts pumping into him. Ravus can’t decide which to lean into: Prompto’s firm grip around his erection or Ignis’s forceful thrusts.

Prompto uses the lube to wetten his cock and fingers before standing behind Ignis. He knows he’s already prepped himself, but if there’s one thing Prompto can’t resist, it’s Ignis’s sounds when he fingers him. “Ready, Iggy?” he asks, pressing a kiss to Ignis’s shoulder and setting his free hand on Ravus’s hip. Ignis nods, spreading his legs just a little to give Prompto more access.

“Prom,” Ignis stutters as he slides two fingers effortlessly and curls them against his prostate. Prompto smirks at Ignis’s use of his nickname; it’s only when Ignis is  _ really  _ enjoying himself that it comes out. He twists and scissors just a little before brushing against that sweet spot again. Ignis bucks his hips and both he and Ravus moan. Prompto slips his fingers out and his dick in with one swift motion.

It only takes a few moments for them to get the rhythm just right. Prompto slides into Ignis, pushing him further into Ravus, and watches as he scrambles for purchase against the stage, pale cheeks flushed and red. If Ravus looked sexy before, he’s gorgeous now, with both of them working to make him come undone. Ignis grips his shoulders in his hands as he thrusts, pulling away from Prompto and into Ravus. Curling his fingers around his cock, Prompto strokes it at a rhythm to match Ignis’s. The man between them is quickly falling apart from the stimulation of fucking and being fucked; Prompto presses himself against Ignis’s back to hold him steady as he fucks him hard enough to move both of them. He’s feeling it approaching too, the pleasure is building like a halo around his brain and white-hot pleasure is coiling up inside him quickly.

Ignis comes first with a needy moan, holding Ravus tightly as he thrusts into him. His muscles clench around Prompto and it’s almost too much, if he can just hold out until Ravus comes, then they’ll be golden- he wants nothing more than to watch the man beneath them squirm with pleasure- and it’s almost too much when Ravus comes, too, painting Prompto’s fist with thick, white ropes of come.

Prompto only lasts for a few more thrusts before his legs are quivering with the intensity of his impending orgasm. Sinking his fingernails into whoever it is he’s grasping at, Ignis’s heat tightens around him and Prompto cries out. The three slump against the stage, panting and shaking as they come down from their respective highs.

“Don’t expect me to let you two off so easily,” Ravus says, catching his breath. “I still need that lesson.”


End file.
